30 Lunar Phases For A Dragon
by Lilamedusa
Summary: He was continually breaking her, hoping to be able to fix her once again. She'd continually break him too, just to know how it felt like. For Mystii's 30 drabble challenge.


Written for Mystii's 30 drabble challenge.

This is not in chronological order, but there are all part on one same story. Draco and Luna because I love them together. And I know it doesn't go against cannon, but I kind of like Rolf and Astoria by now.

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Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.

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**1. Sapphires**

He liked to whisper sweet nothings in her ears.

Sometimes her eyes were like **_Sapphires_**, even if they're grey, not blue; her lips were like roses, not pale; her smiles like the sunshine, lies. Nothings.

Grey sapphires, unvaluable, unbelievable, unacceptable. And so, so, so pretty that she wanted to believe_believe_believe. She wanted to believe him.

She wanted to think she was pretty, that he loved her, that he was brave, that she loved him back.

That together they could do anything, to leave the world behind.

That they were in love, that her lips were roses, her eyes like **_Sapphires_**.

**2. Love? What do I know about love?**

**"_Love? What do I know about love_?"**

She was so very wrong. He was a Malfoy, he did not love. He did not fall for loony (pretty), annoying (sweet), disgraced (desirable), outcasted (so very wrong), sloppy (so very right) girls. He did not love her. He refused to acknowledge her question. She couldn't go and pretend not to know about love, and pretend _him_ to explain to her.

"Oh, I think you may have an idea, Lovegood."

"No, I don't." She answered, stubbornly. He glared at her. "What?"

He sighed and he kissed her, deciding to ignore her.

"You're hateful."

**3. Hundred(s)**

There are **_hundreds_** of reasons to love her.

He's pretty and crazy and spontaneous and Luna and _real_. There is something heartbreaking in the way she goes through life, something that touches him to the chore and makes him love her even when she's no longer his.

There are **_hundreds_** of reasons to miss her, like the way he's now lonely, and his house is dirty and his face is wrinkling and his life is empty and surreal.

There are **_hundreds_** of reasons for him to miss her, but holding hands with Scamander, she has no reason to come back.

**4. Sunshine**

She was the first one to be surprised when she discovered the sun rising in the horizon and the **_sunshine_ **covering her skin like a warm bright blanket. The smile that she was able to see in rolf Scamander's eyes was a smile she and her friends thought was long gone.

She had been so sure that the end of them would be the end of her.

She thought that without Draco there was nothing, no moon, no sun, no light, no darkness and no her.

But she discovered that without Draco, the **_sunshine_** was finally able to reach her.

**5. Moonlight**

She tried to pick herself up when he left her.

She remembered him under the **_moonlight_**, when she was broken but he was more. She'd try to help Ollivander and he'd tried to sneer at her, and she fell in love with the mad glint of his tortured eyes.

She knew he would leave. He was too good for her, the loony, but she loved him like he was, a coward, a lost lonely boy in a world that was too big for him and his kind.

She remembers him under the **_moonlight_**, his pale gray eyes, and she breaks.

**6. Fiery-Orange hair**

Luna met _him_ in September, _Rolf_. He knew it was over when he saw them. He was lanky, tall and had **_fiery orange-hair_**.

For several years, Luna had been a self-admitted alcoholic. Her turning point was then, when she found herself hanging by one arm out of a fourth floor window, with no idea how she got there. After that he rescued her, and he was adorable, and she stopped drinking, and she left _him_.

Being with him changed her. Rolf-_fucking-_Scamander and his bloody red hair changed her.

Draco hated Ron Weasley's **_fiery orange-hair_** and Luna's long-dead crush on him.

**7. Marked**

She was just as **_marked _**as he was, but her scars run deeper.

She is so sure that he actually blames her for everything that has happened to him, and maybe he's right, maybe it's her fault, but it's also his. His fault, he left them mark her, the Cruciatus is now running through her all the time and she wants him to feel her until he hates as much as he hates everyone else.

She wants to hex him, make him suffer, shout at him, show him who she really is.

She is **_marked_** by them and by him.

**8. Blissful**

There's something pretty about his hands and his hair and his eyes.

There's something charming about the way he talks, the way he looks at her, the way he promises he's hers.

There's something breathtaking in the way he walks in the way he talks and in the way he smiles. Something enchanting about his voice and the wrinkle in his eyes.

There's something that makes her love him despite everything he is, or maybe just because of it, with him She can forget about that damn cellar and the horrid war.

There's something **_blissful_** about just being with him.

**9. Groan**

Draco had to watch how Rolf-_fucking-_Scamander fixed her. Mended her. Filled her.

How slowly but surely she began to smile for him, when she had refused it to do it for Draco. When Luna's laugh came back, it was for Rolf, not for him.

The crumple-horned Snorkacks came back too, the Nargles, and every other crazy animal whos name he could not remember.

Luna's craziest fantasies filled the house until there was no space for his pride and for his ambitions and for himself.

He left his house, and his girlfriend and his dreams with a **_groan_** no one heard.

**10. "Why in the _world_ would you do _that?"_**

"I'm leaving."

He saw it coming. It had been crazy, being together when he felt so lost, when she felt so lonely, when she was so empty and so broken and so not her. And now _he_ was here, and there was no space for Draco in _LunaandRolfScamander_.

**_"Why in the world would you do that?"_**

She sighed. No hope for a nice goodbye. But that was them, not nice smiles and nice words, just wild sex and passion and neediness and being so obsessed with the other's obsession that life beyond them was not possible.

"I _am _leaving, Draco."

**11. Empty**

He left her first. Dreams weren't enough and he wanted nothing but the world.

But the world wasn't his, and she was, and he came back. Where Luna used to stand, there was a woman with bored eyes, without a smile and an empty aristocratic smile. He looked for Luna in the long dirty blond strands, for Luna in the crooked smile and for Luna in the tiny cherry like breasts.

He tried to mend her once and twice and a thousand times. He smiled, he begged, he cried.

But she was **_empty_**, not broken, and could not be mended.

**12. Raving**

He's **_raving_** mad, she thinks. He's the weirdest person ever and not even Luna Lovegood can get used to his weirdness.

He asks her out one day, and she doesn't understand why. She's in love with him, but he can't tell him, because he'll laugh and she wonder if this is a new joke, a way to ridiculize her like when they were in school.

He is so beautiful and she wishes she could kiss his lips. She does, and she doesn't understand when he kisses her back.

They're on a date and she wonders if she's **_raving_** mad too.

**13. Continually**

He was **_continually_** breaking her, hoping to be able to fix her once again.

"You're sick, Draco" she'd say.

But she didn't care, she was sick too, insane, loony. She'd **_continually_** break him too, just to know how it felt like, **_continually_** kissed him in the lips and stepped on him, licking and moaning and groaning, and holding him so close he was sure he'd never be able to be free again. But he didn't want to.

He wanted her to lick and to moan and to whisper his name as if he was hers. Every day. For ever.

**_Continually_**.

**14. Maniac**

He started working as a painter in Marcella, although he lived on Sark at the time.

She moved with him across the continent, being his muse, his lover, his sunshine, his everything. She was like the sun, always there, even when he could not see her. He loved her more than he could possibly say, loved her as he could only love her, darkly, insanely, obliviously.

Her brightness scared him at times. Malfoy's were used to hide from the sunshine, not to bathe in it. Loving her wasn't normal; it made him feel insane, loony, and abnormal, like a **_maniac_**.

**15. Dreamily**

She had gone through life **_dreamily_** until him and she became them. She lived **_dreamily_** skipping in the hallways, **_dreamily_** sighing after a Weasley, **_dreamily_** dreaming of the times to come.

He found her crying, and he didn't give a damn.

"Your crying bothers me, Lovegood."

Or he did, he gave a damn for the broken girl that had been locked in his cellar, for the girl who looked at him as if he was the one who needed saving.

She thinks he loved her then, while she cried for a dream long gone and went straight into a nightmare.

**16. Brightness**

He noticed immediately when her **_brightness_** came back one day even if he did not realized where it came from.

She was less and less empty and he couldn't find out why. His heart broke every day knowing that she was gleaming and filling and stupidly grinning with something that wasn't himself.

She filled at the same time he emptied. Her **_brightness_** came back at the same time his left.

He was becoming emptier, darker, broken. And she was so busy gleaming she never even realized.

He shed a tear and smiled when he saw her smile. She didn't notice.

**17. Closed**

She had **_closed_** the door to her heart long before meeting him.

She was sick of love long before even having someone's lips upon hers, before holding hands with another, before giving her all saving just the saveable.

While she dreamily skipped in the school, vainly smiled to her friends, merrily ignored the reality, she slowly **_closed_** herself and decided without noticing.

He changed her. He entered like an arrogant storm, with a sardonical smirk and a derogative sneer.

He opened the **_closed_** door with an odd nickname and a smart observation of her obsession with weirdness. He opened her.

**18. Opened**

Astoria Greengrass slowly **_opened_** what Looney had closed.

She smiled when no one else would, mend the scars no one else mended, fell in love with him when no one else did.

She picked up the pieces another had thrown away. She kissed the lips another had kissed. Gave away her name and her life and her family and stubbornly did what another should have done.

Luna solemnly watched in silence as it happened, torturing herself in silent jealousy that made her sick.

She knew she was wrong, but she wanted the doors she had closed never to be **_opened_**.

**19. "Judgmental, much?"**

His smile was able to light a whole room. She had always thought he was a dark guy, a boring asshole, a coward that could do nothing but harass others.

**_Judgemental, much?_**

She now knew better. She had met his smile, his tears, his fears. She was able to feel his little insecurities, hear the frown on his eyebrows, see the misery in his voice.

She could know read him as you read a book, love him as you love the day, enjoy him as she enjoyed a good trip to the beach.

_He_ was her trip to the beach.

**20. Dancing**

She likes green apples and rain and lemon drops. They're sweet but bitter, like life, like her, like him.

She likes **_dancing_** in the rain, singing in the shower and shouting when she feels like it. She lives her life **_dancing_**, like a vela, like a candle's flame, like a bird. He likes it when she dances, especially when she dances for him. She's clumsy, and not really good at it, and that's what makes it even more charming. She makes him happy, she makes him dance too.

He never wants to stop **_dancing,_** even if his feet are bleeding.

**21. Flower Garden**

She doesn't likes flowers. Neither does him. But the new flat has a **_flower garden_** and Luna thinks that killing the flowers just for the sake of them is just as good as murder and makes a smart remark when he says they're just flowers.

He hates this new Luna, wittier, snappier, unLunier.

She would have done it before, taking out the flowers and it's not a big deal but it means something to him. She's more and more irrational, less and less her.

He doesn't like flowers. Neither does she, and still the **_flower garden _**remains where it is.

**22. Truthfully**

She hated him. **_Truthfully_**. She hated his lips, and his eyes, and his hands, and his sneer, and his laugh.

She really did. She did not kiss him because he loved him, but because he hated him, his pure-blood ideals, his arrogance, his grin, his guts.

Hated the way he looked at her, the way he groaned her name when he was asleep, the way he could make her moan his name when his fingers were so inside her she could no longer feel them.

And she loved him. **_Truthfully_**. She loved him. Thoroughly. She loved him. Completely.

Loved_hated_loved him.

**23. Lies**

She lived her life dreamily drifting in between the world in her head and everyone else's. But sometimes, she would drift a little further (for him) and his world fused with hers, and peacocks rised being phoenixes, and his wild ambitions turned into nothing but kisses in the dark and whispers in the silence.

He loved her almost as much as he loved himself, and she loved him enough to forget about her crazy dreams of sweet smiles and hope and love.

Their worlds almost fused, but enough love wasn't enough to dreamily skip into his arms. **_Lies_** weren't enough.

**24. Gone**

His Patronus is now a March hare.

He doesn't remember what it was before, but now it's a hare, like her, like Luna.

Silvery, flickery, surreal, fluorescent. Like something he loved once upon a time and now he'll love for ever.

It isn't true. He believes that if love wasn't enough it wasn't love.

Astoria sometimes remembers him of her. But they're not the same.

Luna was air, Astoria is earth. Luna was a storm, Astoria is calm. Luna's a soft smile, Astoria the knowledge of being alive and well and in love.

Astoria is here and Luna is **_gone_**.

**25. Bones**

Luna thinks that light seeks him out, even if he's so set to stay hidden in the dark.

He thinks there's nothing that can save him, but Luna know he really doesn't need to be saved. He's a good person, even if he often tries to show he's not.

He's seventeen and she's sixteen, he's the owner of the house and she's her prisoner in the cellar.

But still, she loves him as only she could love him right now, seeing through his very soul and catching somewhere deeper than his **_bones_** the terrified coward he is, always have been.

**26. Soldier**

He is a **_soldier_**. He fights himself and her every day.

He fights against the feeling that's settling somewhere in his heart, somewhere it's not meant to be, even if it seems to fit so very well. He's meant to hate her, despise her. He's just met her a month ago and he thinks he's in love with her.

He can't be. She's Luna Lovegood and he's a Malfoy and he does not love her.

Still, he has to fight himself everyday to be convinced that her smile is not pretty and that her long hair is not so sexy.

**27. Amethyst**

She was the vengeful god of intoxication, Dionysus, and he was **_Amethyst_**, the young maiden who had to be attacked by the lions, three, four, five, all of them.

They all came, Weaselette, Fatbottom, Weasel, Potter and Granger. How dare he touch her, leave her, hurt her, _love_ her? And he didn't care what they say, he didn't. They were nothing, but she was everything and nothing.

She was Dyonisus the god, and he was Amethyst, but though he drown himself in wine, there was no goddess Diana to turn him into a rock and save him from just feeling.

**28. Water**

She was like **_water_** in his hands, it didn't matter how much he tried, she was slowly falling, and she could do nothing to hold her.

She was like water, wild and versatile and free, and she had no place besides him, a Malfoy, because he was fire, and he couldn't even burn her, because she'd only end up, weeping him away with stupid empty smiles and stupid empty words.

She was not Luna anymore, she was hard and cold as ice, and impossible to touch like vapour, and she was slipping away like **_water_**, leaving him dead and dry.

**29. Fire**

They were like **_fire_**. Unstoppable. The whispers. Everywhere.

"Always new she was loony."

She used to laugh them away. Not anymore. It annoyed her. Endlessly.

She didn't understand why, though. They had never annoyed her before. Before, people could talk, people could tease, and people could laugh. Not now, though. Their whispers were like **_fire_**, burning them, destroying her.

She was a loony. She was a whore. She was using him for his money. Addicted to sex, into BDSM, a lesbian, a Death-eater.

Their whispers were like **_fire_**, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to stand them much longer.

**30. "I chose _you_."**

**_"I chose you."_** That's what she says when he looks at the face she once loved and now pities a little. "And you left me."

He knows what he did, he is sorry, really is. What does she want him to do? To smile? Pretend that he's okay with her leaving him for one Scamander she doesn't even know that well? Not even leaving him but throwing him out, the house is hers, she wants to break up, wants to be with another. He can't let her. Loves her. He opens his mouth. Is his last attempt.

**_"I chose you." _**

**31. Stormier**

He loves the smile in her face when she tells him she's pregnant, and he feels like leaving when she says she lost the baby.

What does she mean? One doesn't just _lose _an unborn baby. One loses a watch, a key, even the wand. Not a baby.

And he understands it's not her fault, but she cries and he's angry and the relationship is **_stormier_** and **_stormier_** and he doesn't even know why she loved her in the first place. But she loves her, and her love gets unstable and stronger and dangerous and hurtful.

And she lost it.

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Thanks a lot for reading.

I write fanfiction to improve my english. I'm about to take my FCE, so it would really help me if you pointed out my mistakes for me, thanks.

Lilamedusa.


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